


The Night Off

by SpicedGold



Series: The Nara Family [6]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Family, Gen, I want a child and am projecting, Shikadai bonding with his uncles, more family fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-26 08:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: Temari and Shikamaru need a night outShikadai needs a night in getting to know his unclesKankuro needs to learn when to shut up





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember who asked for Shikadai with his uncles, but here it is. Enjoy.

The knock on the front door woke little Shikadai up from his nap. He yawned, stretching, before clambering out of bed. He took a moment to balance himself, yawned again, and then started toddling to the door to see what was happening.

He froze before rounding the corner, though. The door was open, and his mother was talking to, presumably, the source of the knocking.

There were two people there he didn’t recognise, and he stayed shyly hidden in the doorway, peering around it. He watched his mother greet them, but not the way she usually greeted people. These ones got hugs. Usually she just snapped at whoever was there.

Suitably intrigued, he left his position in the doorway, keeping his back to the wall and sliding silently along towards her. Maybe they wouldn’t see him, and he could reach the safety of his mother before anything happened.

He didn’t get far. One of the Mystery Guests spotted him. “Hey, Shikadai.”

He froze in place. In a moment of bold decision-making, he sprinted the final few metres to Temari, grabbing the back of her legs and hiding his face against her. Safe at last, he peered out from behind her.

The strangers looked vaguely familiar up close. There seemed to be a hidden memory somewhere in his just three-year-old brain that told him he knew these people. He just didn’t know where from.  “Mom,” he whispered, pulling her kimono, “Mom, up.”

“You probably won’t remember Gaara and Kankuro,” Temari bent down to lift him. He turned the names over in his mind. Maybe? Maybe not? He kept his back to them. He didn’t like strangers, and he was still sleepy and shy and confused. “Say hello.”

Shikadai mumbled something.

“Hello, Shikadai,” one of the people behind him spoke. It was a different voice to the one who had spotted him sneaking up.

Shikadai hid his face against Temari’s neck, tightening his grip on her.

“Say hello properly,” Temari said.

He shook his head, staying firmly hidden. He closed his fingers around her kimono in case she tried to pry him off. Maybe he should have gone to his dad, and not his mom. His dad never minded if he didn’t talk to people.

As if summoned by Shikadai’s internal panic, Shikamaru came from the depths of the house, looking as though he had just woken up. He probably had.

“Hey,” Shikamaru greeted, coming up behind Temari, rubbing his eyes. “You’re early.”

“We left early,” Gaara explained.

“Finished work sooner than anticipated, and figured we’d get a head start.” Kankuro shrugged.

“Shikadai,” Shikamaru said, waiting until Shikadai peeped one green eye at him. “Did you say hello?”

“No, he didn’t,” Temari said reproachfully.

Shikamaru smiled. “He can be a bit shy with new people. He’ll get over it.”

Carefully avoiding looking behind himself at his uncles, Shikadai waved a hand towards his father. Once he had Shikamaru’s attention, he practically launched from Temari’s arms. Shikamaru caught him.

Safely nestled against his father – who didn’t scold him for greeting people – he turned his head curiously towards the two strangers, sucking absently on his fist. Kankuro noticed him looking, and smiled at him. Shikadai turned his head away quickly, closing his eyes against Shikamaru’s shoulder. He wanted to go back to sleep. He tried to pretend, but the vice grip he had in Shikamaru’s shirt might have given him away.

Shikadai kept his eyes closed as his father carried him back into the house. He didn’t listen to the voices. As long as he was safe against his father, he didn’t care what else was going on. It was only when Shikamaru sat down in the lounge, arranging Shikadai more comfortably in his lap, that Shikadai dared look around again.

Gaara and Kankuro sat across the low table from his parents. Shikadai’s 3D puzzles were scattered across the table top, because he had been undoing the newest ones before he had needed a nap. He wanted to reach for one to fiddle with, but didn’t want to move.

Gaara picked up one of the puzzles, turning it over in his hands. He didn’t look at Shikadai.

Shikadai peeked at him out the corner of his eye.

While everyone else talked, Gaara fiddled idly with the puzzle. He couldn’t seem to undo it. Shikadai sat back a bit to get a better view. Gaara was clearly struggling, getting nowhere. It was a bit exasperating, actually. Shikadai knew how to do it.

He turned around on Shikamaru’s lap, fully facing his uncle.

Gaara slid his eyes to him slowly. He held the puzzle up. “Can you undo this?”

“Yeah.” Shikadai nodded. “It’s easy.” Cautiously, he began to climb off Shikamaru, taking small, deliberate steps until he was next to Gaara. He reached out a hand, waiting for Gaara to hand the puzzle over. Once he had it, he plopped down, and expertly flicked and twisted until all the pieces were undone. He stood to lay them in a neat line on the low table.

“You’re very clever,” Gaara said.

Shikadai felt a swell of pride in his chest. He looked at his toes, wiggling them a bit.

“Can you undo this one?” Kankuro passed him another one.

“I can do them all.” Shikadai turned the puzzle around a few times, a frown set on his face.

“Show me how.”

Shikadai took a hesitant step towards Kankuro. He met his eyes shyly. With the puzzle gripped in both hands, he mumbled, “Can I sit on your lap? Then you can see better.”

“Yeah, sure.” Kankuro hoisted the boy up. Shikadai was too busy taking the puzzle apart, explaining what he was doing, to notice the look he got from his mother – one he hadn’t seen as often as some of her others. This one was peaceful and fond and achingly tender.

Shikamaru noticed it, and flicked his eyes to Kankuro. Kankuro grinned back. “See, Gaara, he likes me more.”

Gaara did not rise to the statement. He just watched Shikadai. The boy undid the pieces, holding them up for Kankuro to see.

“Like that, did you see? It’s not hard.” There was a smidgen of his Suna arrogance showing through in his tone.

“How long does he take to figure out a new one?” Gaara asked, slightly wondering.

“Couple of hours if we’re lucky,” Temari shrugged. “Few minutes, usually.” Shikadai could be focused when he wanted to, and once faced with a puzzle would often sit quietly until he had it figured out. Keeping him occupied was a constant challenge. He had breezed through all age-appropriate games, and had been driving Temari nuts until Shikamaru came home with a set of six 3D puzzles.

The next day he went out a bought a dozen more.

So far, the longest Shikadai had taken had been three hours and twenty-four minutes, which Shikamaru had timed when he felt he had finally found one to stump his child. It had not. The infamous Nara genius, which was always tempered with their inherent laziness, had been diluted by Temari’s determination, and it had resulted in a child that could focus for hours on one thing, and did not give up often when faced with something intellectually stimulating.

Physically, he would give up far sooner. Boruto could out run him any day.

Shikadai stayed where he was, sitting on Kankuro. He was warm and comfortable. Kinda squishy. Shikadai wriggled a bit, giggling when Kankuro put an arm across his stomach to stop him from sliding off. He spent a while sitting there, until his eyes began to droop again. His sleep had been interrupted earlier, and he could feel it tugging at him again.

“Dad,” he yawned. “Nap?”

“Yeah, you can go,” Shikamaru replied.

“Come with me,” Shikadai requested, exiting Kankuro’s person and padding around the table to grab Shikamaru’s hand.

Shikamaru sighed. “Okay. Just for a few minutes.”

“Don’t fall asleep,” Temari interjected warningly. “You always do that. Say you’re spending five minutes getting Shikadai settled, and then I don’t see either of you for the next two hours.”

“I won’t fall asleep,” Shikamaru said, allowing himself to be dragged from the room by a determined, yet sleepy, toddler.

Gaara waited until Shikadai had left the room, before putting the puzzles he had undone back together. “Some of these look difficult.”

“That was the plan,” Temari sighed. “Not difficult enough, apparently. If either of you have any ideas on keeping genius toddlers busy, I’m all ears.”

“You sound tired,” Kankuro observed. “When last did you get a night off?”

“Have you met my boys?” Temari snorted. “I don’t get a night off. I’m trying to keep the house in one piece.”

Gaara looked thoughtful. “Shikadai will be fine with us. You and Shikamaru should go out.”

“He’s shy with new people,” Temari looked unconvinced. “I don’t want him to be worried. And you’re not here to baby sit, anyway-“

“Temari,” Gaara interrupted. “Don’t. We _want_ to spend time with him.”

“And we want you and Shikamaru to survive the next few years,” Kankuro added. “Shikadai will be okay. If you’re that worried, then ask him.”

“We’ve got to go to a meeting with the Hokage now,” Gaara said, standing up. “But when we’re back, we’ll talk about this more.”

“Yeah,” Kankuro added, “Doesn’t it seem kinda stupid to you that you got more one-to-one time with Shikamaru when you two lived in separate countries?”

Temari looked at the floor. “When you put it that way . . .”

“Sort it out with Shikamaru,” Kankuro said. “We’ll keep the mini shadow occupied.”

“That is a greater challenge than you think,” she muttered, standing as well to see them out.

“We can handle a toddler,” Gaara said firmly.

“Yeah, he’s half Shikamaru, so he should only be half as difficult as you,” Kankuro added cheerfully.

Temari sent him a look. “I’m not difficult.”

Gaara and Kankuro traded glances.

“Fine,” she said, exasperated, before they could add anything more. “I’ll talk to Shikamaru. Stop being so judgy, you jerks.”

“We’re just being your brothers,” Gaara pointed out reasonably.

“Think about how much you loved growing up with us,” Kankuro said innocently. “Think about how good life was with siblings. Think about how lonely Shikadai is-“

“Get out,” Temari said firmly, before Kankuro could drop any more less-than-subtle hints. “Go to your meeting, and stop bothering me.”

Gaara looked thoughtful. “But in all seriousness . . . Shikadai is lonely.”   

 

Once her brothers left, she made her way to Shikadai’s room, taking in the sight of her son and husband lying together. She rolled her eyes; Shikamaru was stretched along Shikadai’s bed, a hand on the boy’s back, eyes closed.

Shikamaru opened his eyes when she appeared in the doorway, mumbling, “I’m not asleep.”

She crossed her arms. “Clearly.”

Shikadai was motionless, deep in sleep and unaware of anything going on. He was innocent and peaceful, and she had to smile at him.

“Gaara and Kankuro want us to go out.” She spoke softly, even though it didn’t matter. Shikadai would sleep through anything. “They say they’ll stay with him.”

“Sounds good.” Shikamaru yawned. “Tonight?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You sounded a bit too sure there. Have you planned this?”

“Just answer the question. Tonight?” Shikamaru let his eyes close again.

She considered. “Okay. Tonight is fine. As long as Shikadai is okay with being left with them.”

“You know, you always accuse me of coddling him, but you’re the one who worries about leaving him for longer than an hour. He’ll be fine. You can be a little less over-protective of him.”

“What’s wrong with being over-protective?” she defended. “He’s my only child.”

Shikamaru opened his eyes with a lazy smirk. “We can change that.”

 

Shikadai was sitting on the porch outside, watching the deer and eating a snack, when Gaara and Kankuro returned later.

Kankuro looked smug.

“We found him a jigsaw puzzle,” Gaara announced. “That should keep him busy.”

“You’d think so,” Temari looked critical, “But we’ve tried that before. Shikamaru found one of a field of flowers and Shikadai had it completed in two days.”

“Did you think of buying one of clear blue sky?” Kankuro asked.

“Yes.” Temari sent a sideways look at her husband. “And someone else did it.”

“He was asleep,” Shikamaru shrugged, unapologetic and unashamed. “I wanted to see how easy it was.”

Temari sighed, and gestured behind her. “Shikadai’s outside, if you want to give it to him.”

“Hey, Shikadai,” Kankuro approached the boy, the jigsaw box in his hands. “I got you something, kid.”

Shikadai looked at the box thoughtfully, chewing slowly. “What is it?” He cast a wary glance at his parents as they approached, wondering if he was in trouble for talking with his mouth full. He froze in place, in the hopes that it would make him look less guilty.

Kankuro sat down next to him, opening the box and spreading the pieces across the wooden floor. “Something to keep you busy.”

Shikadai finished chewing, shifting himself closer to Kankuro.

Temari and Shikamaru sat next to each other, and Gaara sat opposite them, watching carefully as Shikadai studied what Kankuro was doing.

“There.” With the pieces scattered, Kankuro looked very satisfied with himself. “A nice, difficult puzzle for you.”

“I like puzzles,” Shikadai brightened. “Stay with me.”

“Sure thing,” Kankuro settled comfortably, and Shikadai immediately sprawled out on his stomach, chin in his hands, looking at the puzzle pieces. He kept one foot against Kankuro’s leg, as though making sure his uncle did not leave him.

“That will keep him busy,” Gaara said, smiling slightly. “And he’s perfectly happy with Kankuro. You don’t need to worry about leaving him with us.”

“Oh, good, so we _can_ go out,” Shikamaru said gleefully. “Finally. It’s been ages.”

Temari glanced at Shikadai, who was happily moving pieces around the floor. “He does seem settled.”

“Because he is,” Shikamaru pointed out. Shikadai was leery and wary with strangers, and allowed babysitting only from Ino or Mirai, so it was a surprise and a relief to see him so at ease with his uncles.

With Shikadai successfully occupied, they continued to chat. Well, Temari and Kankuro mostly talked. Shikamaru knew how much she missed her brothers, especially since she and Kankuro had been so close, and he was happy to see her reverting easily and seamlessly back into her role as his nagging, annoying older sister.

It was about an hour later that Shikadai stood up, saying blandly, “Two hundred pieces isn’t much.”

Kankuro glanced behind himself at the completed jigsaw. His jaw dropped.

Shikamaru sighed. “Good job, kid.”

Shikadai came to sit in Kankuro’s lap, eyes drooping closed. He cuddled into his uncle’s chest, seemingly unaware that he had been stunned into silence.

“What’s plan B?” Gaara asked quietly.

 

It took Shikadai seven minutes to solve a Rubik’s cube.

It took Shikamaru fifteen seconds.

The room was very silent.

Then, quiet and cautious, Gaara murmured, “I can see why you’re finding him a handful.”

“I’m not a – oh, you mean Shikadai.” Shikamaru nodded. “Yeah, well, he can be a challenge.” He spun the cube casually around in his hand. “We should get more of these.”

“If only he had someone else to play with,” Kankuro pointed out, shortly before Temari threw a cube at his head.

Shikadai abandoned any further games in favour of climbing onto Gaara’s lap, settling into him with a contented sigh.

“Shikadai,” Temari caught his attention.

He blinked big eyes at her.

“Will you be okay staying here with Gaara and Kankuro while Dad and I go out?”

“All by myself?” Shikadai clarified. Temari wasn’t sure if he wanted to ensure he didn’t have to share his uncles, or if he wanted to invite a friend over for company.

“Yes, by yourself.”

“Okay.” Shikadai shrugged. He put his face close to Gaara and whispered something in his ear.

Gaara tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

“What?” Temari asked, suspicious.

“Nothing,” Gaara said, the smile colouring his words as well.

Shikadai peeked at her, meeting her eyes fleetingly before hiding his face against Gaara once more. He mumbled, barely audible, “You can go out, I won’t mind.” He held tightly to Gaara, as though worried Temari would pluck him off and shake him until he repeated what he had said.

Temari rolled her eyes.

Gaara, fighting to school his expression back to normal, mouthed at her, “He said you nag and he could use a break from it.”

Shikamaru snorted. “Smart kid.” He jerked aside as she swung an elbow at him. “Don’t take it out on me; he said it.”

“I think it’s safe to say he’ll be fine with us,” Gaara added, finally able to sound normal. Shikadai nodded against him, still not daring to look back at his mother.

“Are you satisfied that everything will be fine?” Shikamaru asked, turning a slightly smug look to his wife.

She nodded reluctantly. “Yes, fine. We can go out.”

Shikamaru stood up, looking triumphant. He offered her a hand. “Shall we get ready then?”

Temari let him pull her to her feet, but stared hard at both her brothers. “If there is so much as a scratch on him when I get back, I will murder you both.”

Gaara looked unphased by the threat. “That’s treason.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do I look concerned?”

He had to admit that she did not.

“Temari,” Shikamaru sighed. “We can’t go out if you kill the baby sitters.”

“We’ll treat him like he’s made of glass,” Kankuro promised.

“What do you know about looking after glass?” Temari countered.

“Plenty,” Gaara said, smiling at Shikadai tenderly. “Glass is made from sand.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're collecting family photos to add to the collection on the fridge. Also trying to babysit without killing the child by accident.

It did not take Shikadai long to attach himself to his uncles. He was a fast learner and had already noticed that, like his father, his uncles were more lenient about rules, and more willing to cuddle and coddle, and less naggy than his mom.

As such, he was supremely unruffled by both parents getting ready for a night out together, because he had the undivided attention of Gaara, who had willingly spent the afternoon building puzzles with him, and letting him nap on his chest.

There was some commotion going on now, as he had been brought to the front door, to seemingly listen to his mother fret over something. He wasn’t sure what; he was sleepy.

 “Are you sure you can handle him?” Temari asked anxiously. She hovered, with Shikamaru attempting to drag her the rest of the way out the door.

“I think we can handle a baby,” Kankuro said, rolling his eyes. “He’s three, what’s he going to do?”

“You need to watch him. And make sure he eats. And sleeps.”

“And breathes,” Shikamaru added unnecessarily, grinning at the glare Temari shot his way.

“It will be fine,” Gaara assured her. Shikadai was firmly attached to Gaara’s side, having learned that big green eyes and the imploring command of ‘up’ negated the need to have to walk anywhere on his own. “Go and relax.”

“You’ll call if anything happens?”

“Yes, we will call if anything happens.” Gaara sounded placating, and obviously that soothed Temari a bit.

She nodded. “Okay. Be careful. Remember, if he gets so much as a scratch I will kill both of you, and I won’t regret it. And don’t keep him up too late.”

“Temari, he won’t miss bed time,” Shikamaru pointed out. “He’s never even missed a nap. Leave him alone.”

“Baby, we’ll be back soon,” she spoke to her son, who just nodded dismissively, occupied with Gaara’s shirt collar.

“Bye, Mom,” he said with a shrug, nonchalant.

“See? He’s fine,” Shikamaru hauled her bodily out of the house. “Come on. You can’t miss him if you never leave him.”

Kankuro waved cheerily. “Have fun!”

Shikadai did not wave. He was too busy inspecting Gaara’s person. Eventually, his attention settled on the gourd at his hip, and he kicked it experimentally with a foot. “What’s that?”

“It has sand inside that I use,” Gaara explained, taking Shikadai back into the house.

“Use for what?”

“Protecting people,” Gaara replied simply.

Shikadai looked thoughtful. “My dad uses shadows.” He offered up a challenge, “He’s better than you.”

Kankuro raised an eyebrow. “Did your dad tell you that?”

“No. I figured it out.” Shikadai narrowed his brilliant green eyes. “Because he can stop people from moving, and that means he wins at everything.”

“Do you think he’d win if he was fighting your mom?” Kankuro asked curiously, wondering what Shikadai thought about that.

Gaara sent him a warning look, which Kankuro completely ignored.

Shikadai paused, mulling that over. “No, Mom would win. Because even if she can’t move, she can still yell at him, and he always does what she says.”

“Let the record reflect that in a match against Temari and Shikamaru, Shikadai says Temari will win,” Kankuro stated solemnly.

“Temari did win,” Gaara pointed out.

“By default, because Shadow Boy gave up,” Kankuro shrugged. “Same thing. Kid knows what’s up. He’s right.”

“My dad can beat you, though,” Shikadai stated confidently. “You should fight him.”

Poor Shikamaru. “I don’t think we need to do that,” Gaara said. He tried to put Shikadai down, but the child attached himself firmly to Gaara. He was remarkably well adhered to Gaara’s clothing.

“You have to hold me,” Shikadai mumbled, face pressed to Gaara’s shoulder for yet another point of contact.

“Why?”

“Because I’m tired.”

“You’ve been sleeping most of the afternoon.”

“That’s why I’m tired,” Shikadai replied, with a wide yawn that may or may not have been staged. His vice grip on Gaara’s clothing loosened ever so slightly. It occurred to Gaara that he shouldn’t indulge Shikadai’s every whim, but the fact that Temari wasn’t around didn’t make it seem that urgent. He sat down with Shikadai still firmly attached to his person.

“Wanna show me how these puzzles work?” Kankuro asked, sitting next to Gaara and handing Shikadai the first of several 3D puzzles he had collected.

Shikadai took it, mulling over it for a moment before undoing all the pieces deftly.

“I think it’s nice that you’re trying to make him seem like he’s so smart by pretending not to be able to undo them,” Gaara said softly. Shikadai was too busy focusing to be paying him any attention.

Kankuro raised an eyebrow. “No, I really can’t get these ones figured out.”

“He’s three years old. How can you not do them?”

“Hey,” Kankuro defended. “I didn’t get the brains in the family, I got the looks.”

Gaara stared at him flatly. “You got neither.”

 

Shikamaru had always been an expert on finding places to eat that were quiet, out of the way, uncrowded and, most importantly, unknown by his friends. It was the only way to get any peace in the village. It had been an indispensable skill when they first start going out and were trying not to draw attention to themselves. Over the years, the need for secrecy had diminished, but Shikamaru’s want for privacy had still remained.

Temari was very pleased about that now.

The restaurant was quiet, with very few people besides themselves. It felt a bit like being in their own secluded world, and she suddenly realised how much she had missed that – just her and Shikamaru, with nothing else to worry about.

“When was the last time we went out for dinner?” She sipped her wine.

“Just us?” Shikamaru mused for a moment. “About six months ago. Ino babysat for us.”

“That was a long time ago.” Temari regarded him over the table.

“In all fairness,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, “We tried a few weeks ago, but you had to wear that red dress and we never got out the house.”

“It was still a nice evening though,” Temari pointed out, with a sharp smirk of her own.

“It was. But this is nice, too.” Shikamaru looked around. “Since your brothers are here for a week, we should try get a few more nights like this.”

Temari’s brow creased, a bit of worry creeping back in. “What about Shikadai? And you have work. And I have work. And I’d like to spend some time with Gaara and Kankuro. And Shikadai-”

“Have some more wine,” Shikamaru said, reaching over to top up her glass.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.”

Shikamaru grinned. “Maybe I am.”

“Why would that be?”

“Make you more agreeable.” Shikamaru shrugged.

Temari finally returned his grin. “Agreeable to what, exactly?”

“Because,” Shikamaru topped up his own wine glass. “After dinner, we are not going home.”

Temari looked at him quizzically.

“Kankuro and Gaara know we won’t be home until tomorrow. I’ve already booked a hotel, and you and I are going to have one night uninterrupted for just the two of us.”

Temari looked doubtful. “Will Shikadai be alright?”

“My mom is on standby,” Shikamaru assured her. “I told Gaara to call her if they need anything. And Kakashi’s given me the day off tomorrow, and I told the missions desk that you were not available.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

“About a month,” Shikamaru admitted. “Do you like the idea?”

“Hm,” Temari pondered a bit, rather liking Shikamaru’s expression of suspense. “I suppose, since you went through all that effort . . .”

“It was rather troublesome,” he added encouragingly.

“Well,” she smiled. “Wouldn’t want all that effort to go to waste.”

 

“Uncle Gaara.” Shikadai sounded muffled.

Gaara looked up from his book to see a pointy tuft of hair, the rest of Shikadai’s face covered by his t-shirt, little arms stuck up in the air.

“It’s bath time and I’m stuck.”

Unable to think of a suitable response, Gaara just shrugged, leaning over to yank the shirt over his nephew’s head. “Shouldn’t we run a bath before you get undressed?”

Shikadai was shimmying out of his pants. “Not when Mom isn’t home.”

“What do you mean-“

“You can’t catch me!” Shikadai exclaimed, throwing his clothes dramatically into the air and running from the room, butt naked.

Gaara blinked.

 

“You used to do that too,” Kankuro said, grinning at Gaara’s expression of horror.

“I would never.”

“Sure you would.” Kankuro had a naked Shikadai tucked under one arm, squirming wildly, having been thwarted in his attempts to open the back door and go streaking through the forest. “You’d run away from Yashamaru the moment your clothes were off.”

Gaara looked doubtful.

“If you don’t believe me, ask Temari. She’ll confirm.” Kankuro jiggled Shikadai a bit. “Hey, kiddo, are you going to run again?”

“Yes.” Shikadai pushed firmly against his uncle, trying to get free. “I don’t want a bath.”

“But you said it was bath time,” Gaara repeated, clearly puzzled.

“I changed my mind.”

“As if we needed more proof that he’s Temari’s kid,” Kankuro muttered. “Well then, what do you want?”

“Take your clothes off,” Shikadai demanded, tugging insistently at Kankuro’s shirt.

“That’s not happening, kid.”

Shikadai huffed. “Daddy does.”

“Yeah, good for him.”

“And Mommy.”

Gaara frowned. “This is more information than we need.”

“ _This_ is more information than we need,” Kankuro said, holding Shikadai at arm’s length and squinting at him. “Remember how in denial we used to be? Then this little guy appears and well, can’t exactly pretend our sister is innocent anymore.”

“I need to pee,” Shikadai announced. “Come with me.”

“Do you think he’s this demanding with Temari?” Kankuro sighed.

“No. Shikamaru may be a different story, though.”

Shikadai kicked his legs. “Put me down.” He ceased all movement after a few seconds, eyes drooping. A big yawn escaped him.

“Oh, good, he’s gone back into Shikamaru mode.” Kankuro said gleefully. “He’s far easier to handle like this.”

“Hold me properly,” Shikadai mumbled, flailing his hands until Kankuro brought him closer, and Shikadai could wrap his arms around Kankuro’s neck. He leant his head down, eyes closing.

“Come on, kid,” Kankuro patted him absently on the back. “Let’s find you some clothes.”

Shikadai made a muffled noise of protest, but he didn’t try to move out of Kankuro’s hold. Once in his room, however, he squirmed away from Kankuro’s attempts to wrestle him into a t-shirt.

When Kankuro sent a helpless look to Gaara, Gaara rolled his eyes, and a small twist of sand rose from his gourd.

Shikadai stopped moving, staring at it in fascination. He reached a tentative hand out, letting the sand curl around his fingers.

Kankuro took advantage of the distraction to shimmy Shikadai into some underwear, but before he could get the rest of his clothes on, Shikadai edged away from him.

“Nope,” Shikadai slid off the bed, taking off in a run across the room. He tripped over absolutely nothing, landing on his knees with a small grunt. He stayed there for a moment, blinking, before flopping onto his backside and inspecting his knee.

He turned his face to his uncles.

“Uncle Kankuro,” Shikadai whispered, looking mortified. “I got a scratch. Mom’s going to kill you.”

 

Shikamaru was almost asleep (From either too much wine or too much physical activity, both were equally likely) when Temari spoke.

“Should we call and check on them?” Temari muttered, words slightly muffled against Shikamaru’s chest. “Where’s your phone?”

“It was in my pants, so wherever those ended up . . .”

Temari propped herself up on an elbow, surveying the hotel room. “Nah, too far away.”

“Lazy, are you?”

“Been spending too much time with you,” she retorted.

“Hm,” he pulled her closer. “Not enough time, which is why we’re here.” He yawned, his jaw clicking slightly. “Sleep?”

“Might as well,” Temari breathed warmly against his skin. “There’s still tomorrow morning to bother you.”

 

Shikadai let out a wide yawn, snuggling a bit firmer into Gaara’s side on the couch. He had finally been convinced to put pajamas on, and, blinking sleepily, asked, “Where’s Mommy and Daddy?”

“Hopefully getting you a sibling,” Kankuro shrugged.

“Don’t tell him that,” Gaara hissed. “They’re out,” he corrected. “They’ll be home in the morning.”

“So not tonight?”

“No.”

“But who will give me good night kisses?” Shikadai blinked. “I can’t sleep without them.”

Based on what Temari had told them, that was a lie. Shikadai could sleep at any time. In fact, he looked pretty close to conking out right now, nestled against Gaara with heavy eyes and a petulant, stubborn pout.

Gaara suppressed a sigh. “I should put you to bed.”

“No.” Shikadai closed a fist in Gaara’s shirt. “No, you have to come with me. And Uncle Kankuro. Or we have to stay here.”

“We can stay here a few more minutes,” Gaara compromised, knowing that a few more minutes would probably result in Shikadai being fast asleep.

Sure enough, Shikadai leant progressively further into Gaara, until his eyes closed and all the tension in his body drained away.

Gaara and Kankuro waited until he had been asleep for a while before Gaara picked him up, and took him to his room.

“He’s a handful, but he’s fun,” Kankuro observed, watching as Shikadai settled himself with a fist tucked under his chin.

“Temari sleeps like that,” Gaara observed.

“Dude, when were you watching your sister sleep? Do you know how creepy you sound?”

“We’ve been on a lot of missions together,” Gaara defended. “I know how you sleep as well.”

“Creepy,” Kankuro repeated.

Gaara did not engage further. He made sure Shikadai was tucked up snugly, smiling softly at him.

Kankuro noticed. “What’s with that look? Want one for yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you’re out of luck unless you kidnap Shikadai. You’re not getting a kid any time soon.”

“It’s fine.” Gaara smoothed Shikadai’s hair back. “I’m happy with him.”

 

A very small voice woke Kankuro at some point in the night. “Uncle Kankuro? Are you awake?”

He resisted the instinctive urge to swat at the tiny figure next to him. If Gaara didn’t kill him for that, Temari certainly would. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, kid?”

“Can’t sleep.” Shikadai replied simply. He tugged rather insistently at the covers, trying to pull them back.

“What’re you doing?” Kankuro asked, baffled.

Shikadai didn’t answer, just pushed and pulled until there was a big enough gap for him to wedge himself against Kankuro’s chest. He snuggled down with a contented sigh, eyes closing, and breathing slowing almost instantly.

Kankuro stared at him, a bit bewildered and slightly intimidated. What if he rolled over in the night and squashed him? Shikadai was so small and defenceless. What if he held him too tightly? What if he didn’t hold him tight enough, and Shikadai fell out the bed and cracked his head open, and Temari skinned him alive for damaging her child?

Having a small child sleeping beside you should not have been as terrifying as it was. Suddenly the responsibility of keeping another person alive seemed much more difficult. Burdened by such thoughts, Kankuro just lay silently beside his nephew, not daring to close his eyes. Sleeping seemed like a far off, distant memory.

He sighed, laying a hand against Shikadai’s back. Well, no sleep for him tonight.

There was a sudden flash of light from the doorway, and Kankuro’s head snapped up. “Fucks’ sake, Gaara, you better not have taken a photo!”

 

When Shikamaru had caught his breath in the morning, the first thing he started to do was complain. “Do we have to go home? It’s so comfortable here. I want to stay in bed.”

“Yes, we have to go home.” Temari started to get up, only to be pulled back down. “Shikamaru, we can’t spend the entire day in bed.”

“Try me. I’ve done it before.” He kept his arms wrapped around her, sticking his face into her chest.

Temari sighed. “We’re going to have to go home eventually.”

“No, we don’t. Ino will adopt Shikadai, and we can spend the rest of our lives in bed.”

“Shikamaru.” She pried him away. “Get up.”

He flopped onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “Okay, but we can do this again before your brothers go home, right? At least once more.”

“If they agree to it,” Temari said firmly. “Now get your ass up.”

 

Shikadai was sitting on the couch in Gaara’s lap, watching sand swirl around in fascination, when Temari and Shikamaru came home. He did not get up to speak to them immediately, too interested in the sand that his uncle could move without even thinking.

It was only when they entered the lounge that he slid off Gaara’s lap and crossed the room to first hug his father, then his mother.

“Hi, Dad,” he said, adding after a moment, “Kankuro can’t do the puzzles.”

Kankuro made a face. “They’re hard.”

“Hi, Mom,” Shikadai chirped. He opened his mouth to speak, then clapped a hand over his mouth with widened eyes.

“What?” Temari asked, instantly suspicious. Shikadai was never one to filter what came out of his mouth.

He darted his eyes to his uncles, before squeaking, “I’m sorry.”

“What did you do to him?” Temari asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Gaara shrugged.

“I got a scratch,” Shikadai whispered, as though lowering his volume might make the event insignificant. “Please don’t kill them.” He presented his knee somewhat nervously, twitching away when Temari bent down to look at it.

“Calm down, she’s not really going to kill them,” Shikamaru assured.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I fell,” Shikadai admitted. “Because we were having fun.”

“Fun can be dangerous,” Gaara added solemnly.

“We won’t have fun next time,” Shikadai put in quickly. “We’ll be very, very boring. Please let there be a next time.”

“We are the best at babysitting,” Kankuro gloated. “All he wants is more time with us.”

“I told you to watch him,” Temari said. “How did you manage to injure him in one night?”

“Injure is a strong word,” Shikamaru put in. “I mean, it’s a scratch. Just one. I’ve got bigger scratches on me from last night.”

Kankuro flicked one eyebrow up. “That’s currently topping the list of things I never wanted to hear.”

Temari stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh, get over it.”

“Before you two descend back into your childish sibling squabbling,” Gaara interjected dryly, “Shikadai asked if we could do this again. Kankuro and I are happy to.”

“You damaged my child.”

“You damaged me,” Shikamaru muttered, and earned a back-handed slap to the chest.

“Mom?” Shikadai asked, blinking big eyes. “Please?”

“Please?” Kankuro echoed, doing a far worse attempt at big pleading eyes.

“Okay, fine,” Temari snapped. “Stop looking at me like that. It works for Shikadai, but you just look idiotic.”

“Speaking of Kankuro and Shikadai,” Gaara spoke again. He took his phone out, holding up the photograph for Temari to see – a happy little Shikadai snuggled into Kankuro’s chest with a peaceful smile and Kankuro staring at him as though the child was about to explode. “I got this for you.”

“Hm,” Shikamaru studied it, and gave an approving nod. “Nice. That’s definitely one for the fridge.”

< The End >


End file.
